Treat me mean and cruel, but Love Me

Short, not in stature, edgy, awkward. Something’s not right. Bunny snores behind my back. “Daddy, I wanna sleep in your bed.” Warrmmmm. Kids are too cool.

Digression.

I’ve lost the delusions of grandeur and settled for delusions of average. “Not now, I’m trying to post something.” You know, I used to think I was going to accomplish something huge in my life. Jesus Christ, it’s not self pity, my perception of “something great” is wacked. So I’m reading about this 29 year old Bozo who designed Rock Star Beverages. He started with $50K. Doubled sales every year since inception. I could do that. Sure, the drugs, booze, lack of a moral foundation, mistakes, big mistakes haven’t helped the cause. But I could do that. I’ve been experiencing bursts of creative ideas lately. (Doesn’t show here, does it now) I have an idea for a business, an idea for a screenplay, ideas to expedite daily chores; I’m full of ideas. Or just full of shit. Maybe I shouldn’t cuss too fucking much. Oops, I just did. Did you know that the word “fucking” is recognized by Microsoft Word as grammatically correct and correctly spelled? (No little red line under it to remind me I’m a jackass that can’t spell without a spell check) Holy shit, Microsoft, thanks for bringing up that ambitious mother fucker. Bill Gates: “If I was substantially more intelligent and better educated, I could’ve done that too.”

As previously stated, my perception is wacked. I still define success with a powerful title. “Darek – CEO of his own shit” … I think I like it.